From where i sit

I can see the mountains in the distance, and the sea of buildings that stretches from here to there. I can see the clouds and i can only assume that the clouds can see me. We all paused to watch a helicopter roar past . What bliss it is to be able to travel in three dimensions.

Ulala is slightly mad at me. Or was. Maybe she isn`t any more but i won`t know until she gets home from work. I am already home from work because there were only two lessons available today. These two unfortunate facts about my current reality stress me out far more than they probably should. Ulala will almost surely be fine by the time she gets home (our dispute was miniscule and inane and - of course - my fault) and lesson numbers go up and down like my own personal stock market (but it`s the not-knowing that largely causes the stress).

So this afternoon i will see Michelle (who is just ending a brief but awesome visit on her way back from Bali) off at the airport bus and then i will plan lessons, practice mixing (DJing - not tending bar), and most likely do housework and whatever else i can do to distract myself from worry (including blogging). I need a switch somewhere that disconnects the stress circuit in my brain and ceases these constant fantasies of personal terror that plague my idle mind. Unnecessary? Yes. Melodramatic? Definitely. So why the hell does my brain do it? Meh.

I started a new project the other day. As if i don`t have enough hobbies already. It has already fallen by the wayside. It was an idea that i can`t remember why i had. The plan was that for the month of June i would take pictures - one a day - of whatever and glue them in a book. Underneath them i would write a line or two that impressed me from a song. This project lasted exactly two days. On the 3rd day i looked at the photos (one of Ulala`s feet while she was sleeping and one of an underground walkway here in Osaka that has crazy lighting) and i looked at the song lyrics underneath and realized that these things had no connection, nothing to join them but they paper they were on. I`m not really sure if my goal was art or journalistic or a need for creative outlet or what. Perhaps it was just some weird arts and crafts flashback from childhood, when making things didn`t need a point. Now i have this mostly empty notebook with two pictures and a couple of song lyrics in it and the really weird thing is that I don`t want to throw it out! I have somehow become attached to this misguided, not-quite-creative brain-burp. All the more reason to toss it.

Also, while wandering around downtown yesterday with the girls we came across this punk-puppy. Now i have a whole new way to define the word awesome.